Just when you thought that flying with Ryanair couldn't get any worse, just imagine turning up for your "bargain" flight to wherever the airline can be bothered to take you at whatever time it can be arsed to set off, and finding that the other two seats left in the only extra-leg-room row have been bagged by David and Samantha Cameron. It's at times like those that you really resent the smug people who paid 10 times the advertised price of the flight for the added luxury of "priority boarding".
The flight would be packed, because the flights before and after it would inevitably have been cancelled at the last minute owing to unforeseen circumstances (the kind that come with no compensation, as opposed to foreseen circumstances, which might, presumably, persuade an airline not to put on a flight and sell tickets to travel on it to hundreds of people who have looked forward to their holidays and taken time off work and got up at 3am and travelled quite a long way in a very expensive taxi to get to the airport on time). So there would be no chance of swapping seats just after take-off so that instead you could sit in front of the arguing couple with the screaming baby and the three year-old that's rhythmically kicking the back your seat in training for its future job interrogating terrorist suspects. You'd be stuck there, all the way to Granada, making conversation with Dave'n'Sam. And that's a long time to spend biting your lip and trying not to say, "So what, exactly, have you done with your children?"
Dave'n'Sam would be pretending to be normal, which was, after all, the whole point of their flying cheapo to the Costa del Pie and Chips and the Football on the Tellio, instead of being carried to Klosters on the backs of monogrammed swans, which is what they usually do. So Sam would be reading the new Jenny Colgan, and Dave would be endeavouring to work out how to open up the flippy-flappy table in his arm-rest without scattering the crumbs from the previous passenger's hot ham and cheese ciabatta (£3.90) all over Sam's Boden straight-leg capris, before giving up and falling asleep with his mouth open.
The rows in front and behind would contain six swivel-eyed minders in identically unobtrusive grey suits with suspicious-looking bulges, but you would have to pretend not to notice them; otherwise you might get arrested and taken to Guantanamo.
Many people have defended Dave'n'Sam, arguing that it's not fair to punish them for taking expensive holidays with their rich friends and then punish them equally for taking cheap holidays with the proles, or that, just because he promised to be the greenest prime minister ever that doesn't mean he shouldn't take a short haul flight for a couple of days in the sun now, because one more broken election promise doesn't seem so huge, really, to a man who spends so much of his time standing next to Nick Clegg.
And to be fair, at least he didn't have another, private charter flight (that we know of) following on behind to carry his bags.
Some have also pointed out that it's different for Cameron to leave his eight-month-old daughter and two other children behind while he goes on holiday, and not a bit like all the benefits oiks he criticises for having too many children when they've neither the time nor the money to look after them, which is quite right because the Camerons children are looked after by a very good nanny or six.
I think that the Camerons should fly Ryanair as often as possible. If there's one thing that can lift the public's spirits at this difficult time, it's the image of Dave'n'Sam's miserable faces as they sat in Stansted airport, realising, for the first time, how normal people live. That's not just a bargain; it's priceless.